Hospice
by YoungJules
Summary: Marshall Lee, a hospice worker in a cancer ward, is assigned to a new patient, Fionna Mertens. Over time, their relationship blossoms into much more than nurse-and-patient. But when Fionna's condition worsens, the couple may be faced with the reality that perhaps love can't cure all things. Based on the album "Hospice" by The Antlers.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

"So you see, Mr. Abadeer, since Nurse Pound has retired, the patient is in desperate need of a new caretaker… considering that a position such as this requires the providing of emotional support just as much as medical, I feel that you're the best candidate out of the remaining hospice workers to provide for the girl. Now, whether or not you accept the task is entirely up to you, but I do hope you will at least consider before saying no."

"Come on, doc. I've got tons of patients to care for already. I understand that this girl isn't doing so well, and I offer my sympathies, I really do. But you can't expect me to drop all my current patients to go hold hands with one girl in the cancer ward."

"I've already arranged for the other nurses to watch over your patients. This girl doesn't just need a nurse… she needs a friend, a full-time companion, Marshall. Please, can you do that?"

And that's how Doctor Petrikov roped me into becoming the personal caretaker of patient 22-A, Fionna Mertens. After flipping through her records, I discovered that she'd been struggling with a nasty marrow-depleting form of bone cancer. Fionna Mertens has spent her whole life going from hospital to hospital, each facility eventually running out of ways to effectively treat her. As a result of this rollercoaster of a childhood, the nineteen-year-old suffered from a couple emotional disorders, namely clinical depression, for which she took pills. I braced myself for one of the most difficult hospice assignments of my career.

I would never have been able to prepare myself for this one, however. Even if I had known just how far it might go.

On April 5, 2010, I drew a deep breath and entered room 22-A. Another nurse finished switching out the I.V. bags, and briskly marched out the room, leaving me alone with my new patient. I pulled up a chair beside her bed. I brushed my bangs away from my eyes and gave her a smile.

"Hi," I greeted. "My name's Marshall Lee. I'm your new nurse."

The girl turned her head over to face me. The first thing I noticed about her was a sort of haunting beauty. She was very thin. Not quite gaunt, but noticeably atrophied. Her long yellow hair spilled across the pillow and around her shoulders. Her soft, pale skin contrasted the harsh lighting of the room. The one thing that stood out the most, however, were her eyes. They were a sharp, clear blue, that seemed like they might have been brighter in a time long passed.

"Hey there. I'm Fionna," she answered, returning the smile. Her sudden sweetness took me off guard. I wasn't sure exactly what I had expected, but her personality definitely seemed warmer than her appearance. "So, what brings you to my neck of the woods, Marshall Lee?" she asked with a smirk.

I chuckled. "Well, since we'll be seeing a lot of each other, I thought that we should get to know one another a little."

"Agreed. So if you were given 24 hours to live, what would you do with it?"

Once again, the girl caught me off guard. "What kind of question is that?" I asked with a chuckle.

"Just an ice-breaker. It's questions like these that really let you see into a person's mind." Fionna leaned in ever so slightly. "So, I ask again. If you had 24 hours to live, what would you do with it?"

I had to think for a moment. After a minute or so, I came up with an answer. "Well, I'd probably go out to one last concert. Then one last jam session with my band. After that I guess I would say goodbye to my family and stuff, of course."

Fionna nodded understandingly. "Cool, cool. So you're a musician. See, now we're learning about each other!" She grinned widely.

"Not quite," I replied. "I still have to ask you a question. Or did you forget?" I smirked, and I could have sworn I saw her blush, if only just for a half a second.

"Fine. Hit me with your best shot," She replied teasingly.

I already had my question in mind. "Alright then. What's the weirdest dream you've ever had?" I asked. I had expected some sort of funny anecdote. Instead, her face became solemn.

"Well, back around the time I was first diagnosed when I was twelve, I began having really bad nightmares. I would be wandering the streets of my home town, and it would start to rain. As I walked on through the rain, my legs would start feeling weaker, and the rain would get heavier. Eventually, my legs would just give out under me and I'd collapse right there on the sidewalk. At that point, the rain would escalate into a full-on hurricane. The wind would throw my hair back, hail pelting my back as I just lay there doubled over, _screaming_… and then I'd wake up. The eerie part was when my legs still felt sore after waking."

We sat there in silence for a moment. "So, that's your strangest dream then?" I asked, not sure exactly how to reply.

"Yeah," she answered. "Well, no.. I mean, there's another nightmare I'd have that was just as strange I guess."

"Oh? What would that be?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"Well, the first cancer ward I was ever put in was St. Mary's, a children's hospital. I shared a room with a boy named Gumball. Well, at least that's what we all called him. He and I were both fourteen, and we shared a lot of the same interests. We became really good friends. We were inseparable. Eventually, our relationship became a bit more than just friendship. One night, only a month after the first time we kissed, he died in his sleep, without so much as a sound.

"Anyway, after he died, I began having these dreams. Just as I felt myself falling asleep, I would feel him right there in my bed next to me, his face pressed up against mine. I'd be too terrified to speak, or to move. But at the same time I felt… happy, somehow, just because he was there. We would lie there like that until morning, and he'd just fade away, and I'd be all alone in my room again."

I could tell that this whole questioning activity was starting to make Fionna upset. "Hey, we don't have to talk about this anymore if you don't want to. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Fionna wiped a single tear from her cheek. "Heh. No, it's okay, really. Sometimes it's good to have someone to talk about this stuff with. It beats letting it fester in my own head all the time."

I smiled, in spite of myself. "Well, from now on, if you want someone to talk with, I'm your man."

Fionna smirked back. "Hey, yeah. I guess you're totally my bitch now!" She gave me a playful bop on the shoulder.

Suddenly, a shrill beep came from the clock across the room.

"Looks like its time for your medicine," I said, standing up. "I'm not sure what you take, so I'll just get one of the other nurses. Thanks for letting me waste your time and stuff."

This made her laugh. "Are you kidding? I would just be staring at the ceiling all afternoon if you weren't here. Besides…" She smiled sheepishly.

"I'm just glad I'm not alone anymore."

**This story is inspired by the song "Prologue" from the album "Hospice" by The Antlers. All due credit goes to them.**

**Anyway, I'm pretty excited to get this project rolling, so please read, review, and whatnot.**

**I'm planning on continuing my Lemongrab story "In the Belly of the Beast"... eventually. So check that out too.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Kettering**

My new job as Fionna's caretaker went smoothly for about a month. I continued visiting her on a daily basis, and we would spend most of the time chatting about nothing in particular and playing video games (Fionna's older sister dropped off some vintage-looking console. It was called a "B-Mo"... nothing I'd ever heard of.) Every now and then I would be able to coax Fionna into opening up to me about her past, her fears, things like that. I would help talk her through it as best I could. Her condition seemed to get a little better as well, and her mood was brighter. Even those pale blue eyes of hers seemed to glow a little more.

If I had known what a dark turn things would take, I might gotten out when I had the chance.

One evening in the middle of May, the weather was particularly gloomy. I had Fionna's lunch laid out on a tray, and was heading over to her room. Suddenly, Dr. Petrikov stopped me in the hallway. His snowy white beard seemed scragglier than usual, and his circular blue glasses (which to me had always looked like something stolen from an Ozzy Osbourne disguise), were hanging loosely onto the bridge of his pointed nose.

"Marshall. I'm sorry, but it might be best if you don't go in there today," Petrikov said, a hint of worry in his voice.

His tone had made me feel concerned. "What do you mean, doc? Fionna's okay, isn't she?" The doctor stood silent for what seemed like an eternity.

"Simon. _She's okay, isn't she?_"

The doctor sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. I'm afraid not, Mr. Abadeer. Her condition is becoming more aggressive. After her marrow transplant about a month ago, she seemed to finally be going into remission. But apparently her body has rejected the transplant. and her cancer has returned with a vengeance. Needless to say, her physical condition has had a negative impact on her mental one. It might be best to leave her be for the moment."

I was shocked. This couldn't be true. She was doing so well, I had seen her just the other day and she was giggling and ranting about video games! And even if Petrikov was right, how could he leave her in that room all alone?"

"D-Dr. Petrikov," I stammered, "With all due respect, I know her better than you do. If she's really suffering the way you claim she is, she needs me in there with her! She needs-"

"Marshall, I'm sorry," Simon interjected. "But I'm afraid that she's specifically asked me not to let you in."

This left me bewildered. "What? But… but why?"

"I don't know, Marshall. But she wanted me to promise her that you would not come see her today."

The doctor and I stood there, motionless. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. Finally, I said, "I'm going in there. Don't try to stop me."

I tried marching past the elderly man, but he grabbed me by the shoulder. "Marshall, no! I'm telling you, her emotions are too unstable! Who knows what kind of storm you might let loose inside her head?" For an instant, I vaguely remembered Fionna's description of the hurricane dream. With very little effort, I swatted his hand off of me and shoved him away. I continued down the hallway, ignoring his pleas for me to stop. I turned down the corridor and stopped at room 22-A. I took a deep breath and slowly turned the doorknob, just as I did the first time I entered.

I poked my head into the harshly lit room. "Hey, Fi. How're ya holdin' up?" I asked shyly.

I received no answer. Instead, I entered the room to see Fionna lying still in her bed, her chest rising up and down in an inconsistent rhythm, her blond hair spilled haphazardly across her pillow, and her pale eyes staring at the ceiling vacantly. tubes seemed to be randomly strewn around her body, the soft hum of machinery the only sound in the room, save for Fionna's short, then long, then short, breaths. Finally, she spoke.

"Why?" she half-whispered. Her wavering voice made it obvious that she was in no small deal of pain.

"Why am I here? I just wanted to see my favorite girl," I said, putting on a fake smile.

"No. I mean, _why?_" She tilted her head to the machinery next to her.

"Well," I began, trying to use a soothing tone, "you're just, uh, hitting a rough patch in your recovery," I lied. I could tell she didn't buy it.

"Here. Let me check your vitals," I said, walking over to the machines. She didn't protest.

"Okay, let's see… heart rate is fine… looks like the only problem is some unsteady breathing, but the morphine should kick in and fix that soon…"

"Stop it. Now." Fionna said flatly.

"W-what's the matter?" I stammered.

For the first time that evening, Fionna looked at me. Her eyes were piercing and void of emotion. "I said stop. Stop with that glob-damn patronizing tone. It's like you're just another nurse."

I crouched down next to her, and held her hand in both of mine. "Of course I'm not just some nurse. I'm your friend, Fionna. I'm just trying to help you."

Surprisingly, she laughed. It was a laugh of scorn though, not of humor.

"Yeah. 'Help me.' That's what anyone ever says they want to do, but I haven't been helped once. Not even this damn transplant did any good! And you, you were supposed to be different. You were supposed to be the one there for me Marshall! But instead you just mess around playing B-Mo with me and disappear when I actually need you!"

"Fionna, please, you have to understand-"

"Oh, don't worry Marshall Lee. I understand completely. I'm just another patient to you."

I held her hand even tighter. "No! No, you aren't, Fionna. I mean, at first you were. But now, I _know_ you. And you aren't defined by your illness. You're a caring, courageous, beautiful girl who never takes life for granted."

Fionna squirmed upward into a sitting position. She was silent for a moment. "When you came in here earlier, you said I was your favorite girl. What did you mean by that?"

I didn't know what to say. Then, I brushed the hair away from her face, and smiled.

"I think we both know what I meant."

I leaned in. She leaned in too. Slowly, our lips touched. Fionna wrapped her frail arms around my shoulders, and I gently placed a hand on her back. A cool wave rushed over me, and I closed my eyes as our lips moved in rhythm with one another's. Our bodies pressed closer, and for the first time that night, I felt truly at peace. Then, our lips parted, and we released our embrace.

Fionna nuzzled back into her bed, grinning and lightly blushing. My embarrassment must have been apparent, because she giggled. She scooted over and motioned for me to lay beside her. For a moment I hesitated, but she continued to silently coax me until I complied.

"I'm still pissed at you, dude," she remarked.

"I know."

"But I also really like you." She said with a smirk.

I smiled back. "I like you too, Fionna."

She reached over past me and flicked the light switch off.

We layed there in silence for the rest of the night. When I woke in the morning, Fionna was still fast asleep, breathing softly. By the rhythm of her breaths, I could tell that the medication had fortunately worked as I had expected. As quietly as I could, I slipped out of the bed and crept out of Fionna's room.

As I walked out into the hall, I relaxed a bit and continued on at a normal pace. I hurried down into the lobby to sign in for my shift, when I was stopped by a voice behind me.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Abadeer. I noticed that you never clocked out last night."

"Oh, uh, Dr. Petrikov. G-good morning. I was just, uh…"

"I know where you were Marshall, so save your breath. Now look, I can't say that I necessarily approve of your relationship with Miss Mertens, but I will allow you to continue seeing her, for her sake."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Simon. I promise, you won't regret this."

"That remains yet to be certain," the old man remarked. "I just hope you know what you're getting into, son. I'm not sure there will be much we can do to save her."

With that, the doctor went on his way. I remained in the lobby for a while, sitting on the couch and staring idly at the television, deep in thought.

"I can save her," I thought aloud.

"I have to save her."

**This chapter was inspired by the song "Kettering" from the album "Hospice" by The Antlers. All due credit goes to them.**

** Anyway, this was chapter two. Remember to R&R and everything, it's greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading you guys, I'll be updating as quickly as I can.**


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay fellas, I've got three reviews so far, which makes me feel happy. Make me feel happier because it motivates me to write, which just might make you feel happier._

_Anyways, I realize that these chapter titles are a bit confusing, but they're just the titles of the song each chapter takes inspiration from. As I have mentioned, this story is inspired by the concept album Hospice by The Antlers. The similarities don't go too much further than general concept of plot, however. I strongly suggest listening to the album, especially while reading, to get the full effect. Thanks guys, you're rad people. Now Here's chapter 3._

* * *

**Sylvia**

"Get out!" She screamed.

"Fionna, please-"

"Out! I said get out!" Fionna shouted again, throwing her pillow at me.

It was the middle of June. Fionna's condition had been getting worse by the day, and her emotional state was starting to descend as well. Bags had formed under her eyes, her hair matted and tangled, her body even weaker. She weighed eighty-seven pounds.

"Fionna," I pleaded. "What did I even say this time?"

She scowled and looked away from me, out the window. "If you don't know, then I won't tell you. All you've been doing lately is giving me shit! Some boyfriend you are. And a lousy nurse, too." Tears rolled down her face as she shut her eyes tight.

I sighed. Fionna's mood was becoming progressively combatant. Who could blame her, though? I know that if I was the one whose bones were eating themselves, I would've been pretty pissed off at the world, too. The whole thing was just so unfair, of course she had the right to take her anger out on something, on someone. I felt like it would have been selfish of me not to have offered myself as a punching bag.

"I know, Fi. I-I'm sorry. Look, I don't wanna fight anymore. Here, let me change the I.V. for you, okay?"

She extended her arm, blocking my path to the I.V. pole. Her eyes met mine. Her icy blue gaze stopped me mid-stride.

"No. Why don't you just leave me to rot. Glob knows everyone else did. It's just a matter of time before you do too."

"Fionna, you know I wouldn't ever do that to you. Now please, let me do my job."

"So you admit it! I'm just some job to you!"

"What? No! I'm just trying to help you, Fionna. Now will you let me change the I.V. bags please?"

Fionna glared at me silently, then slowly returned her arm to her side. I quickly changed out the bags, and sighed with exasperation.

"Okay, that's done. Now I just have to take your temperature."

"Are you kidding me, Marshall Lee? My temperature? Do I look five?"

Without answering, I pulled the thermometer out of my shirt pocket and motioned to place it in her mouth. She swatted wildly at my hand, and the thermometer was sent flying across the room.

I sighed again. "Okay Fionna, fine. If you want to play this game, I'll just go. Obviously you're more interested in sulking than letting me help you."

Fionna scoffed cruelly. "Help me? Is that what you're doing? Looks to me like you're just playing around with lab equipment. _Oh Marshall, thank you ever so much for replacing my old bag of poison with a new bag of even better poison, I feel a million times better now!_ I thought you cared about me! But obviously you're just going to treat my like an object. Then, just like everyone else, you'll say, 'oh well, I did all I could, I guess she's just gonna die now!' And then you'll never give me a second thought." Her face was red with anger as tears continued to stream down her cheeks.

I tried to control myself, but Fionna's words got the better of me. I grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Dammit, Fionna, my job as your friend… as someone who cares about you, to make you well again. Why can't you see that I actually care about you? If you give up on yourself now, it's not just going to hurt you! I need you to be okay, Fionna." I paused for a moment, looking away. I didn't want her to see the tears welling up in my eyes. "Maybe I need you even more than you need me."

The silence was all-consuming. Fionna wouldn't look me in the eyes. Instead she looked down at her feet, clutching her sheets.

I sighed. "I should probably go," I said. "It's almost visiting hours, I bet your sister is waiting in the lobby."

"Fine," Fionna huffed, still keeping her eyes cast downward. "Send her up, I guess."

I was relieved to be out of the room. Fionna and I have had fights like that a couple times before, but it hadn't ever been quite like that.

I found myself jogging down the stairs, not wanting to keep Fionna's visitor waiting long. I slowed to a casual pace once I was in the lobby. I glanced at the clipboard. "Cara-Kensie Mertens? Your sister's ready to see you."

The woman who approached me looked nothing like how I had imagined her. She was short, nearly a foot shorter than me, with a slightly thick, curved figure, green cat-like eyes, and a caramel skin tone. She was perhaps the antithesis of Fionna.

"That's me sweetie, but you can just call me Cake. Everyone else does," She said with a wink.

"Oh, uh, hello… Cake. You must be Fionna's, uh-"

"Sister," She interrupted. "Our folks adopted her when she was just a baby. I can tell you were wondering," she added, smirking.

"R-right. I read that on her file, I think. Nice to meet you, Cake." I offered a smile.

She smiled back. "Nice to meet you too, handsome. And what would your name be?" She winked again. Cake was beginning to make me feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Marshall. Marshall Lee Abadeer," I told her.

She suddenly blushed very hard, and immediately dropped her flirtatious atmosphere.

"Oh, you're Fionna's, uh… friend. She's told me a lot of good things about you."

"I find that hard to believe. Recently she's been acting like I'm the scourge of the Earth."

"Oh, she just gets a little feisty when she's going through treatment,"Cake assured me. "Come on, walk with me. I should get to know my baby sister's boo, since we'll be seeing each other quite a bit."

"Her-boo?" I muttered, so that Cake couldn't hear. "Uh, yeah, that sounds nice. I should show you where her room is anyway."

Cake and I took our time getting up the stairs. I learned that Fionna and Cake's father was a soldier who lost his life in battle. I learned about Fionna's fear of the ocean, which involved a funny story about a beach trip the Mertens took when Fionna was little. I also got to hear about Cake's boyfriend, Marco Kromikorne, who I "absolutely must meet." Eventually the topic of conversation switched to Fionna and myself."

"Don't let her attitude get you down," Cake told me. "It's the disease talking, not our little bunny."

"Still, I can't help but feel like it's my fault it's gotten this bad," I admitted.

"Oh hon, you can't blame yourself, she's just going through a lot. I'm sure just you being there with her is more helpful than you know."

"Then why do I feel afraid to speak around her?" I asked. "Anything I say to her only makes her upset, and she just retreats deeper into her own world. I almost hate to hear my own voice because of it. I just wish that I could tell her how much I-" I stopped.

"You what?" Cake inquired, cat-eyes, widened.

"Uh.. nothing. Anyway, here we are, 22-A. I'll just leave you two alone, I've got some, uh, paperwork to fill out. It was nice meeting you, Cake."

I quickly spun around and hurriedly walked away, when I heard Cake behind me.

"You should tell her, Marshall Lee. Who knows…

"She might have something to tell you, too."

* * *

** This chapter was inspired by the song "Sylvia" from the album "Hospice" by the Antlers. All due credit goes to them.**

**Okay, that was chapter 3. I'm pretty into this story right now, so I'll be pumping out these chapters as much as I can. Stay tuned, fellas.**

** So I know I promised that I would continue "In The Belly of the Beast." That's a maybe-truth, possibly-lie. It's on indefinite hiatus due to other projects. **

** Speaking of other projects, Purple Ice Queen has chosen to pass on her story "Stalker" to me! Jules! So I'll be picking up on that from Chapter 12, and it's gonna be a pretty sweet ride. You can check out the eleven original chapters on P.I.Q.'s page.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Hey there people. I know I haven't updated this story in a while, but to be honest, my motivation is waning here. So if you like this story, and don't want me to scrap this thing altogether, please review, follow, etc. Also, tell your friends._

_Be good. Go to bed early. Be respectful to mum. Eat your broccoli. Brush your teeth._

_And that's all I have to say about that. Anyway, story._

* * *

**Atrophy**

I stood there staring at the doorknob for about two or three minutes. In my mind, it seemed like hours. Part of me wanted to walk in, say hello to Fionna, administer her daily dose of meds, and get out. Another part of me wanted to burst through the door, wrap my arms around her, and kiss her and profess my love to her. Yet another part of me wanted to sprint across the hallway, down the stairs, and into oncoming traffic.

I chuckled as I realized how well this set of emotions summed up my relationship with Fionna Mertens. Even though her violent spells had subsided, she still had moments when she'd shut herself entirely in her own little world. One minute we'd be playing Bmo and idly chatting about our favorite music (she likes folk music… I'm a punk-rock fan myself), and then next thing I know her eyes would gloss over, and just like that it would "probably be best if I went on my way now."

I had been turning the situation over in my head for the past week, back when Cake had visited. I tried to recall everything Fionna had told me that day, trying to find something, _anything, _that could give me a hint as to why Fionna had suddenly grown so cold around me. But it all came up useless. Then, it hit me.

There was that night that we kissed. It was about a month ago now. We had never talked about it afterward, she had acted like nothing ever happened. I was actually relieved that she did, I had no intention of getting involved with a patient. But recently, that evening had been replaying itself over and over in my head, and every time I thought about it I felt happy… but at the same time, I felt sad. I told myself that the sadness was out of shame, and I never should have done what I did. But I knew better. I was sad because I wanted it to happen again. I wanted it to keep happening. I wanted to kiss her and tell her I love her.

I needed to kiss her and tell her I love her.

And that's why I was standing there in front of 22-A, staring at the doorknob, resisting the urge to vomit. What would she say to me? Would she be pleased? Disgusted? _Dammit Marshall, don't do this! Her situation is crappy enough without you complicating things with feelings,_ said a voice in my head.

I decided to do the selfish thing and go through with it. Taking in a heavy breath, I slowly turned the knob, and the door creaked open. She was sitting on the windowsill, flipping through a copy of _The Perks of Being a Wallflower. _Her hospital gown was haphazardly tossed over the side of the bed, and was wearing a baby blue tank top and blue gym shorts. Fionna looked up from her book, looking surprised to see me.

"Well-well, look who's finally out of bed."

"Marshall? You weren't here this morning. I figured you were off-work today or something."

"Nah. I just got roped into helping organize some files is all."

"That ass of a nurse Donny gave me my medicine since you weren't here. I swear, that guy is such a jerk I can see his jerkiness form a cloud around his massive head," she reported with a smirk.

I laughed. "Yeah, his douchebaggery just seeps out of his skin like a gas. We should call it Obnoxygen or something." This made the both of us crack up.

There was a good thirty-second awkward silence that followed.

"So, uh, are you just here for the ol' checkup routine or whatever?" She pointed her thumb at the IV bags.

"Actually, uhm, no," I began as I took a seat beside her. "Donny told me he already checked on all that stuff. I'm really here because there's something I wanted to talk about." I wondered if she could hear my heart pounding.

"It's about the kiss, isn't it?" She replied. She kept a stoney poker face, but her eyes gave away her concern.

"How-how'd you-?" I stammered. She knew me better than I thought, apparently.

"I've been waiting for you to bring it up," she said, cutting me off. "I knew you would eventually." She cast her eyes down, looking at nothing. "Hell, it took you long enough. I've actually wanted you to say something ever since it happened. Thing is," she chuckled, but still didn't look up. "Thing is, I was afraid to bring it up."

"You were afraid of how I'd react," I said, laying my hand on hers. "You weren't sure what I wanted." I held her hand tighter, and a soft smile began to form on Fionna's lips. To my dismay, it disappeared quickly.

"Well...yeah, but that's not all. I'm afraid that if we… you know… get attached and all… what if it just piles on to the chaos? I mean, you're already breaking your back for me, and Glob knows that I'm just an absolute train wreck. I know you mean well, Marshall. And I really care about you. But do we really want to put ourselves through this?" She kept her head down, but I could still see the moisture building in her eyes.

"Fionna, listen to me," I asserted. "I'm willing to put myself through hell for you. You're worth that to me. And you know what, you might be my patient. But dammit, I don't care if this is wrong! Nobody ever accused me of being some good little boy."

Fionna smirked slightly, but still refused to look up. I lifted her chin up with an index finger, having her look me in the eyes. "Fionna Mertens, you drive me insane. And I am ridiculously in love with you."

For the first time, I saw Fionna smile. Not a smirk; a grin, a big, goofy, beautiful grin, which unfortunately for me was very contagious. Without warning, she threw herself from her seat, wrapping her arms around my neck and pressing her lips against mine. I responded by running my hand through her hair, and eventually we found our way to the hospital bed. Our movements became more heated, more passionate, until I eventually felt Fionna's hand under my shirt, caressing my chest. I parted our lips, much to her confusion.

"Your atrophy," I blurted.

"What?"

"I'm afraid that if we do this, I might hurt you."

Fionna chuckled. "Don't worry, I have faith that you can restrain yourself. Besides," she said with a smirk, leaning in again, "you said yourself you were a bad little boy, remember?"

The rest of that evening was a blur. Let's just say there was some heavy petting and leave it at that.

In the middle of the night, I awoke with Fionna still sleeping peacefully beside me, breathing slowly and softly. As was laying there next to her, I began to think. Maybe it was wrong to fall in love with Fionna. But maybe, just maybe, this was my chance to save her. She meant it when she said she had very few people in her life who were truly with her all the way, save for her sister who rarely has the opportunity to visit. But if I'm here with her, maybe I can help her fight this thing. They say love is the greatest weapon there is, after all.

But what if that's not enough?

I looked over at my sleeping companion again. If only I could take away all of her illness and place it on myself. I meant it when I said I'd put myself through hell for her. There's no cross I wouldn't bear if it meant that she would be okay. In that moment, I decided that I would either find a way to ensure that Fionna and I would be healthy and happy together, or I would waste away in this bed right along with her.

We were in this together now.

No matter what.

* * *

**This story was inspired by the song "Atrophy" from the album "Hospice" by The Antlers. All due credit goes to them. **

**Okay, Lemon averted by mere inches. That's just not what this is for.**

**Anyway, I'm also working on the story "Stalker," which was given to me by Purple Ice Queen. Check that out to. I mean, if you want to. I'm not gonna tell you what to do.**


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